Some Kind of Joke
by gryphonshadow
Summary: Trafalgar Law's duel with Doflamingo ends disastrously and he winds up as the shichibukai's prisoner. He never expected this outcome. How did it come to this? And is there any escape from this hell? Law Torture Fic. Graphic Violence. No Pairings.


**Title: **Some Kind of Joke

**Rating: **M

**Genre: **Angst/Horror

**Characters: **Trafalgar Law, Donquixote Doflamingo

**Pairings: **None

**Warnings: **graphic descriptions of violence, torture, mentions of non-con (threatened), and general mind-fuckery (It's dark, guys. Really dark, and really fucked up. Proceed with caution.)

**Summary: **Trafalgar Law's duel with Doflamingo ends disastrously and he winds up the shichibukai's prisoner. He never expected this outcome. How did it come to this? And is there any escape from this hell?

**A/N: **I am so glad I finally wrote this! I've been promising to write this for weeks now. I got the idea for it months ago and have been distracted with other projects… So I'm glad that I managed to finish it before the manga switched back to the Law/Dolfamingo fight and ruined the plausibility of this little ficlet. Not that is all that plausible in the first place, but a girl can dream.

Also, I may take this fic a little further and write another chapter depending on the success of this fic. **If there is high demand for chapter 2, I will write it**. That depends on reviews. So please, if you want me to continue to torture poor Law, let me know! Just understand that it won't end well for him!

I realized I have a knack for turning character's devil fruit powers against them. Hmmm.

**Recommended Soundtrack**: I was inspired by the band AWOLNATION. Some of their songs fit Law so well. So recommended listening while reading this chapter are the songs _Some Kind of Joke_ and _THISKIDSNOTALRIGHT_.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own One Piece. I am merely borrowing the characters temporarily from the incredible Oda-sensei and will not be profiting off of it in any way.

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**Some Kind of Joke**

_My teacher told me what I'm meant for  
__I beg to differ in the outcome  
I __don't know why, I don't know why, I don't know why…  
__I don't know why, I don't know why, I don't know why…_

_There's nowhere to run  
When you're hiding from the truth  
It's some kind of joke  
When the tears are bleeding blue  
Looking-glass fun  
When the pain is caused by you  
It's some kind of joke_

Trafalgar Law awoke to a pounding headache and a sinking feeling in his gut. Because the darkness was calling to him and he was ready for it and instead he was awake. He was alive.

Brilliant sunlight shined through the large glass-paned windows across from him and the Surgeon of Death blinked. It was blinding. Everything hurt. He was all too aware of the uncomfortable seat his aching back was harshly pressed against, aggravating his many injuries from his earlier defeat. He tried to stand up and immediately regretted it. Threads were holding his arms down against the arm rests, pinning him to the mock-throne. Formerly invisible, the strings to cut into his arms and ran red with blood.

He stared at the site numbly before shutting his eyes. Even the obnoxious checkered floor was pissing him off.

The former shichibukai slammed his head back against the backrest harshly and a low exasperated groan escaped his throat. The threads weaving circles around his neck bit into his skin drawing blood, but he didn't care. The pain was mild compared to everything else. Though it served as an unfortunate reminder of his fate. He was still alive.

_Why?_

"Surprised you're still alive, _hmm_?" An all too familiar voice droned from somewhere to his left. Law didn't even look up, didn't even open his eyes. "You know I wouldn't let you go so easily."

The king of Dressrosa approached his prisoner like a cat stalking a mouse. They say that cats who haven't been properly taught by their mothers how to kill their prey would never be able to finish it off and devour it. They choose instead to play with it: batting their victims between their paws and throwing them up in the air until they grew tired of the game and slink away, leaving behind the injured animal to curl up and wait for death to claim him. Growing up in the house of an aristocrat, Joker's mommy taught her son _nothing_.

"Welcome to my home, Law," Donquixote Doflamingo stopped in front of his captive and grinned from ear to ear. "I saved you a seat at the family table," He gestured at the heart-shaped chair that currently served as the younger man's prison. "Little brother, you know I always meant for you to rule by my side. And now you've come home. It makes me so happy."

_Liar_. His former subordinate said nothing. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He glanced at the row of card suite-themed chairs set up in a line. It was another one of Doflamingo's games. A mockery of what a family was, created by a madman. He frowned and didn't give it anymore thought.

_This is all wrong. This is not according to plan. Why is this happening? He was supposed to kill me during the duel. Why didn't he?! What is going on?_ The dark-haired man willed himself to suppress his racing thoughts and glared at his former boss. Panic wasn't going to solve anything. As it stood now, the former shichibukai's objective was not yet complete. He had to keep fighting, like he did all his life. He had to keep fighting through this and then he'd be free. Just a minor setback. Just a little ways to go.

Joker laughed. It was a harsh and vibrating sound that echoed all around and seemed to fill the large empty hall with his overwhelming presence.

"Why am I still alive?" Law asked, his voice almost at a whisper.

"Fufufufu," The large man before him quieted his revelry. "You're always so serious, Law. It's always straight to business with you. You really need to learn to lighten up and take a joke. You need to learn to _relax_."

With that, the blond bought one hand up and lifted a few of his fingers. The surgeon's eyes widened. The strands looping around his body constricted further, pushing him harshly against the wooden chair. He suppressed a gasp and growled. The other man laughed again.

"Joker…"

"You're here because I'm not done with you yet," Doflamingo hissed. His voice suddenly grew dead serious. "You little shit. You planned to take me down? Have me killed? Get revenge? Don't make me laugh. You haven't changed a bit, you arrogant, cocky brat."

The underworld boss spat out every word in disgust. His tone was harsh. Vicious. Dangerous. The younger shichibukai tensed in spite of himself.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson in humility, boy. One you should have learned a long time ago. You want to see me fall? I'll give you a front row seat. I'll keep you here by my side. I'll let you watch as your plans fall apart around you. I'll laugh as you realize how futile your struggles were. How senseless it was going up against someone stronger than you, someone you will never be able to surpass. _I'll break you_. And afterwards, you can let me know if your so-called _revenge_ was worth it."

The threads around the Law's throat tightened even more, constricting his airways. He fruitlessly gasped for air as the pressure refused to subside. Dots bounced around his vision before Joker finally released him. Gasping of air, the pirate captain struggled to think of a way out of this or at least a way to stall for time. Blood dripped down his neck in rivets. Ceasar was away from the underworld broker's grasp and Luffy and the others had to be close to destroying the factory. Doflamingo talks big, but even he would not be able to escape the wrath of the yokou Kaido if he were to lose his grip over the Smile trade. But the dark doctor was exhausted. His powers were pushed to the limit during their fight and his body was still too weak to make a room large enough to execute a decent escape plan. Joker knew this. That's why he wasn't even using seastone to keep him restrained. That's why he was grinning at him with all the confidence in the world.

_Dammit._ _Why was it that he had to constantly resort to stalling for time?_ It made him feel weak. Powerless to fight back.

"What are you going to do? Turn me into one of your toys?" He asked defiantly.

"No…" Doflamingo said after a momentary pause, facial features relaxing into a frown. He answered slowly, as if he were seriously contemplating the question. "That would be…redundant."

Hating to be taken lightly, Law scowled at the implications.

"And I rather like you like this. Turning you into a puppet would just be boring and somewhat…disappointing."

"Dammit, I told you I was going to bring your reign to an end," The younger growled, and tried to change the topic. Doflamingo still made him feel like a petulant child. He knew exactly what to say to get under his skin and make him lose his usually icy composure. Law _hated_ it. "I meant it. You think you're untouchable. It's about time you find out just how wrong you are. So I don't care what you do to me. You're going down."

"Truthfully, your obsession with me is a little disconcerting." Dolfamingo brushed the threat aside like dirt, his carefree demeanor returning along with the wide smile. The bound doctor grit his teeth, his face livid at not being taken seriously once again. "You could have run away and never looked back. With your skills, you could have had a nice, quiet life as a doctor somewhere on the grand line. You could have forgotten all about me and simply lived your life. But instead, you came crawling back, looking for vengeance ten years too late for it to matter anymore."

"Fuck you. That was never an option."

"Hmm, then I suppose I should be touched that you went through the effort of becoming a shichibukai just to get close to me," Doflamingo stalked closer. "But you know, if you wanted my attention…" he placed a hand on the younger man's chest, right across the Jolly Roger etched permanently onto his skin, and pushed him firmly against the back of the chair with the tips of his fingers. He leaned in and Law recoiled from the closeness. "You could have just asked."

The dark-haired man shuddered. He didn't need a reminder to know that this man was dangerous.

"You grew up to be a fine young man. I'm going enjoy tearing you apart." The shichibukai whispered in his ear and tentatively licked the trail of blood running down his neck. He chuckled as he sensed the dark-haired man's heartbeat quicken under his palm, relishing the complete control he had over the supernova.

"You sick, depraved son of a bitch." Law swore, feeling the larger man's calloused hands glide along his skin, one arm snaking around his abdomen and trailing up his back. The threads dug into his skin when he flinched from the unexpected contact, reminding him that there was nowhere to run. That he couldn't do _anything._ He shut his eyes. If he didn't get out of this soon, things were going to get a lot worse for him.

"Fufufufu… Yes, I'll enjoy breaking you," the former tennrybito pulled away slowly, almost reluctantly. "But not now. Not today. Today we're going to play a game."

The captain of the Heart Pirates almost sighed with relief. Almost. Because when he opened his eyes and saw what the blond held in his hands, his blood froze in his veins.

"You still keep this on you? How predictable." The underworld broker tossed a small black box in between his hands, gazing at his former protégée expectantly. The other tore his eyes away from the metal object and returned with stare with a look of utter hatred. "You remember our little game, don't you?"

Law remembered. Oh, how he remembered.

The tall blond flipped open the case with expert ease and studied the contents. "You got some new toys, kid. How exciting."

The doctor seethed.

"Should we try something new?" Doflamingo deliberated, his long fingers running across the metal tools inside. His movements stopped, hand hovering over the box teasingly. "Or should we go with the classic…?"

Law stared numbly as his former boss rummaged through his surgical tool kit, the kit he kept on him in his coat at all times just in case. On the Grand Line there was rarely ready access to a clean medical facility (except on the submarine). Impromptu field operations were not pleasant but often necessary. And with his skills and devil fruit powers, they were doable. The kit had saved him and his nakama countless times. It was a lifesaver.

And now Doflamingo was using it against him—not to heal but to hurt.

The shichibukai crouched in front of him, bending his knees and putting all of his weight on his toes. Due to his inhuman height, he was still above eye level with the restrained captain. He rested the open metal case on his left knee and picked out a scalpel, offering it handle-first to his captive. Then he brought his empty right hand up. The raven-haired man winced as he felt the threads around his right arm loosening then tightening again, releasing him from the chair but not quite letting go.

The puppet master's fingers twitched and Law was forced to unwillingly reach for the surgical tool, his shaking fingers closing around the handle. He fought back with all his might but couldn't break free. The strings were too strong and he was not at full strength. Usually the scalpel felt comfortable in his hands. Easy. Natural. Right. But this was anything but. His usually impeccably steady hands trembled and the blade felt heavy, sinister.

"You remember the rules, don't you?" Joker inquired, resting his left hand across the toolbox and observing the younger pirate with an easy smile. His eyes never wavered from his captive as he studied the doctor's every movement. The only warning that Law got was a sudden twitch at the corner of the broker's mouth. His fingers moved and the surgeon reacted out of pure instinct.

"Room."

A small blue sphere formed around the supernova's body just as he was forced to cut at his left hand with his right. The scalpel pierced through his hand, the one that was still secured palm down to the arm of the throne and the cut ran through his flesh and the wood underneath. But there was no pain.

Success.

Of course he remembered the rules. He knew this game well. With his room in place, he activated his powers. As long as he was holding the implement, the blade just sliced through his body without consequence. This ability was perfect for performing operations, of course, since the point was to cause as little harm as possible to the patient while at the same time opening them up. So, when Doflamingo used his powers to force him to cut at himself, the blade went straight through his flesh without damaging him permanently. At least, that was the idea.

"Hmmm, still got it," the blond noted. "I almost feel uneasy about not using seastone. Those powers of yours are a real pain in the ass."

"I told you time and time again. Not taking me seriously will be your downfall," the captain of the Heart Pirates replied levelly and took down his room. There was no point in wasting the energy to keep it up consistently. He would only tire faster.

"No matter. It's just a matter of time." Another subtle movement of the fingers and Law's hand came down unwillingly, threatening to maim himself once again. Shallow cuts were child's play, but the danger of this game was the threat of cutting through a major artery. Or taking off a finger. Or an entire hand.

"Room."

The scalpel cut through him harmlessly a second time. Doflamingo whistled.

"I am impressed that you still have so much energy left."

The doctor grimaced. Doflamingo knew the limitations of his powers far too well for comfort. After all, this was the man that helped the former shichibukai tap into the vast potential of the Ope Ope no mi so long ago. And thus he knew exactly how to turn those powers against him. For Law, a man that understood the value of knowledge—knowledge of strategy, of the situation, and of your opponents' weaknesses—that was absolutely unforgivable.

Another cut. And then another. Law tried fruitlessly to resist the controlling strands of the Ito Ito no mi but in the end had to resort to his own powers every time to prevent himself from permanently cutting through his own flesh. The psycho controlling his body varied the strikes. Sometimes he would go for his wrist where the main arteries lie. Other times he would attempt to take off a finger. The Surgeon of Death tried to keep his rooms as small as possible, only encircling his hand. Nevertheless, he could feel himself tiring with the effort to keep them up cut after cut.

That was Doflamingo's game. As a kid, he learned all of the tricks; all of the strategies to keep himself whole for as long as possible. His 'mentor' claimed the exercise would build his stamina. And it did. Pain was a very powerful motivator. The longer this game went on, the more exhausted he became and could no longer maintain his rooms due to either his powers becoming depleted or losing concentration due to the pain.

"Not a scratch, hmmm? That just won't do. This is getting boring," Joker controlled the younger's hand again, this time trying to stab the surgical implement into the center of his hand, straight through the circular tattoo, with enough force to dig into the wood of the chair outside the boundary of his room.

"That won't work," Law growled, his mind focused on maintaining his saving grace. He could feel a headache coming on.

This was no exercise. Not this time. Joker's objective was not to teach him anything (though whether it was thus in the past was equally suspect; Law liked to think the blond man just plain got off on blood and pain). This time, the sadist merely wanted to deplete the supernova's powers, both out of necessity and as a display of control. Doflamingo was painstakingly showing him that he had the ability to render his former employee powerless, even without the use of seastone. That the younger's devil fruit, a source of strength and pride for the captain, would not save him.

The king of Dressrosa paused momentarily after forcing him to pull the scalpel out of the chair. He would do this on occasion, making the unwilling participant in the game think about whether it was worth taking down his room or maintaining it for just a little longer, just in case the madman made him slice at himself again soon after. This time, the bound pirate took down his room a little too late. With a twitch of his fingers, the blond made him bring the scalpel across his fingers swiftly and Law was a half a second late summoning his powers. The blade drew blood at the surface of his skin before the blue sphere covered his hand again, rendering the rest of the cut harmless.

"Finally," Doflamingo smirked. The next strike was fully prevented. But the one after that and then the third bit into the skin of his fingers.

_This was no good_, Law thought. He was tiring quickly. He could no longer create rooms as quickly as before, nor maintain them. And his former boss was just getting started; he was testing him—getting the feel of how much more he could take. Another slash and this time he tensed when he noticed that he wasn't going to make it in time. The game was becoming dangerous.

"Fufufufufu," the underworld broker snickered and leaned closer to his living puppet. "What would a doctor be without the use of his hands? Stakes are high, Law-chan. Pay attention."

The doctor didn't waste the energy to reply, though he wanted to snap back with a snarky comment of his own. Instead, he panted from the effort of summoning his powers. He could feel sweat beading on his brow and dripping down, mixing with the blood and irritating the skin around the threads still wound around his neck. His abilities should not be used so much in such a short amount of time. It took a serious toll on his already injured body.

Joker forced him to bring the scalpel down across the middle of his forearm with enough force to cut through the bone and almost take off his arm. The young captain concentrated hard and managed to summon his room in time, but didn't expect what came after. Without warning, Doflamingo lunged forward, catching him off guard, and stabbed an extremely sharp lancet into his thigh, burying the metal tool deep in the bone.

Law screamed.

The pain was excruciating. His room dissipated instantly. The scalpel, still in mid-swing, cut through the rest of his arm from the inside out. He reflexively kicked out with his foot and his entire body jolted from the shock of the sudden pain. The abrupt movement made it worse—the threads still encircling his neck and arm sliced into his skin, both restraining and lacerating him further.

"Fufufufufu!" Laughing, the shichibukai used the opportunity to force the younger pirate to slice another gash in his own arm. The captive yelped and grit his teeth, trying to suppress any noise of distress. His entire body shook from the pain and he had to will himself to calm down, to be still, in order to avoid injuring himself further. His breath came out in labored pants. Doflamingo kept his left hand on the handle of the blade still stuck deep in Law's leg. "Concentrate, kid. You don't want to die just yet."

He gripped the surgical tool and twisted it harshly to the right, jamming it further into the bone. The doctor threw his head back as far as he was able and cried out again.

Joker grinned wide.

Law fought to regain composure. He hissed as his body involuntarily curled up from the pain in his thigh which radiated through the pierced bone and up his spine. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, opening them again only just in time to notice the king's fingers move again.

"R..room!"

This time, the blue sphere came out pathetically small and dissipated in seconds. He just narrowly avoided stabbing through the veins in his own wrist.

"Careful now. You're slipping."

The game continued.

The underworld broker forced the exhausted captain to stab at himself again and again. The former shichibukai tried to summon his room to protect himself but his efforts became more and more erratic and desperate. He couldn't… He couldn't keep it up any longer. He was far past the limits of his endurance. His powers drained him of all his strength and he fought to suppress the rising panic threatening to overwhelm him. His head was pounding. His vision swam. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't predict where the next slash would fall or whether he was actually going to lose a finger this time. The thought of it terrified him.

Doflamingo moved his right hand again and forced Law to switch the scalpel from one hand to the other. He freed his captive's left arm which was now covered in various lacerations from the blade and the strings when he tried to pull away. His right hand was violently restrained to the arm of the throne and the process started all over again. Blood trickled from his open cuts, creating cascading rivulets of crimson that dripped down the side of the wooden throne.

Law tried to force himself not to think about how this wasn't supposed to be happening and that he was supposed to be dead already. That he wasn't supposed to go out in this way. That the plan was falling apart. That this was wrong, completely wrong. He had to suppress those traitorous thoughts because if he gave into that kind of thinking, he would fall into despair. And that's exactly what Joker wanted.

God, it hurt. His leg was killing him.

He _hated_ that psychotic bastard and he _really _hated his Ito Ito no mi powers. The humiliating loss of control… The fear…

As a child, he had fled across the entire world to escape this: across mountains and endless seas, through thick jungles and eternal deserts. Even deep underwater where not even the rays of the sun could find him. He had trained. He had gotten stronger and more skilled: as a doctor, as a fighter… And nothing had changed.

"You will get your wish," the calm and confident voice of his captor almost startled him. The dark haired man hadn't noticed when that insidious laughter and the slashes across his flesh ceased. "You will die here, Law."

Slumped against the heart throne with no strength left to keep himself upright, held in place only by the damned strings, the Surgeon of Death had no energy to fight back. He breathed heavily, wearily…exhausted. All he could do was watch with cold, tired eyes as he was unwillingly forced to press the scalpel deep into the back of his hand.

"But you will die on my terms and only when I am done with you," Doflamingo continued.

The bound captain dragged the blade slowly and carefully in a diagonal across the circular tattoo etched on his skin. The scalpel bit deep into his flesh, leaving behind a sizeable gash. Blood welled up instantly, spilled across the surface of his hand, and dripped onto his jeans. It will surely scar, he noted.

"Only after I've taken _everything_ away from you. Every last shred of dignity you still possess. All of your pride. Every bit of your soul."

He was made to switch hands and repeat the same familiar mark on his other hand, while clenching his fist around the arm of the chair and digging his fingernails into the wood of the throne.

"Because I own you, Law. You are mine."

His entire body shook in indignant anger.

"And you will die when I let you. No earlier."

The bloodied scalpel slide from his weak grasp and unceremoniously fell to the marble floor with a faint clink. It rolled across the tiled surface to rest not far from the surgeon's misused tool kit that lay forgotten by the foot of the chair. The king's psychotic laughter resonated throughout the entire cavernous hall. The unsettling sound seemed to hang in the air even after the shichibukai stood up to full height, gave his former colleague one last disdainful sneer, and casually left without looking back.

Now alone, Trafalgar Law stared, transfixed, at his ruined hands. They were marred with numerous gashes, both deep and shallow. The blood from the cuts covered his hands, forearms, and the wood of the mock-throne. The small yet razor-sharp lancet was still buried in his thigh and the fabric of his jeans around the wound was stained a deep red. He couldn't even move to take the infernal thing out since he was still bound by the nearly invisible threads.

But the worst… the worst injuries were the diagonal slashes across the back of his hands. The impossibly deep cuts ran from the top right to the bottom left of the circular tattoos. It was a sick parody of Doflamingo's jolly roger: the mark of the Donquixote Family. The young captain's breath hitched in his throat. It had taken a lot of ink to cover up that mark ten years ago. And now, he was once again branded with it. This time permanently.

He grit his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut to disperse the tears of outrage and frustration that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

This was some kind of joke.

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**A/N: **I warned you this was going to be bleak. Please, please, please leave a short comment- criticism, praise, or slander. Whatever. All is welcome! I want to hear your reactions.

And let me know if you want a continuation! I may actually write one!


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